


Warmth

by FireEye



Category: Saints Row
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 22:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17650784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: Gangsters warming up on a snowy day.





	Warmth

Wisps of steam wove around his fingers as he set the mug down on the end table.  Her head lolled towards the sound; her eyes lit up and she roused from under her blanket to reach for the drink.  Heat bled through the ceramic, warming her hands.  The rich, sugary chocolate warmed her to the core.

Johnny sank down on the other end of the couch, sprawling comfortably with a deeply contented sigh, and her shadow of a smile melted under the weight of his comfortable stare.  She licked her lip, flicking her gaze to the window.

The night sky was a bright grey, illuminated by the light of the city below.  Heavy snowflakes danced and whirled downward to the streets far below, covering everything in deep drifts.  The storm had been raging softly all afternoon and into the evening, bringing Stilwater to a standstill.

She imbibed another sip of cocoa.

Johnny was still watching her, one knee drifting absently back and forth.  A slow and easy smile played across his lips, heavier at one corner of his mouth.

Swallowing, she gave a little huff.  Shrugging off her blanket, she pushed to her feet and started pacing the length of the window.  Slowly, her gaze was drawn back towards Johnny.

Measured steps brought her back towards the couch, and she dropped down between his knees, leaning back against his chest.  He slipped an arm around her, pulling her snug against him.

He was warm enough for both of them.

Usually was, truth be told.

Resting her head on his shoulder, temple pressed against his chin, she let her eyes drift closed.  Johnny preoccupied himself by toying with the buttons on her shirt.  The top one came undone, and he slipped his fingers under the fabric to trace the patterns of dark purple ink that adorned her chest.  Her hand found his where it rested on her knee; interlocking their fingers, she traced the knuckle of his thumb with hers.

His fingers trailed higher, up along her collar.  His teeth found her ear, and she hissed sharply. Locking his thumb under her jaw, Johnny nudged her chin up, nuzzling the soft, sensitive skin behind her ear before blazing a trail down her throat with confident, plying kisses.

She crooned into the kiss that found her mouth.

Pressing her tongue to the corner of her mouth did nothing to conceal a languid smile.  Gat’s chuckle reverberated low in his chest.

He leaned back, leaving her to down the remainder of the cocoa.  Licking her lips, she set the mug aside, and twisted into his loose embrace.  Sliding her fingers along his neck, she crushed her mouth to his.  His arms tightened around her, his fingers digging into her ribs and hip.

Pressing her face into the side of his neck, she followed the lines and curves of his tattoos with her mouth, flicking her tongue against his inked skin.  Johnny groaned, and traced the curve of her spine until his hand came to rest on the back of her neck.

Pressing a soft, fleeting kiss to his mouth, she pulled back.  Her eyes flicked to her hand, curled against his chest, over his heart.

He watched her face – the subtle play of emotions, soft and fragile.

And dragged her right back down to crash into him, hard and decisive.  She never needed much of a push; delving into his mouth, she gave as good as she got.

Her soft gasp whispered across his mouth as they parted.

He inclined his head, his expression an open question.

Giving a barely perceptible nod, she wrapped her arms around his neck.  She held on to him as he rose to his feet; he carried her up with him until she found her own.

Holding up his hand as she stepped away, she pirouetted, leading him along in a slow dance of her own making.

***

Johnny idly ran a thumb along the broken pattern across her back, following by touch the scars more than the ink itself.  Sprawled contentedly on top of him, she sighed into his shoulder.

Half asleep.

Pressing his mouth to her hair, Johnny closed his eyes.  Cupping one hand over her shoulder, and bracing the other against her hip, he rolled them both onto one side.  Her eyes fluttered open, and she latched on to his arm.

It took her a long moment to settle in again.

Her fingers skimmed down his chest.  Johnny laid his hand over hers, pressing her fingers flat against his heartbeat.

She stared at his hand.  Her lips parted, her gaze growing distant.

He rubbed her thumb with his.

Slowly, haltingly, she flicked her eyes upward to meet his.  Johnny watched her, hardly inscrutable.  A tiny, uncertain sound died in her throat, and she tilted her face towards him as he leaned in to kiss her.

She folded her arms against his chest to press up against his warmth, pressing her face into his neck.  Johnny draped his arm over her, tucking his chin against her shoulder.

Outside, it was still snowing.

Right here, they had each other, which was everything they ever needed.

**Author's Note:**

> -idek.  
> -i just wanted to write something.  
> -and by 'something' i mean 'gangster makeouts with awkward feelings and no dialogue' apparently.


End file.
